Not My Day
by ClarityAnnDale
Summary: Draco is experiencing an incredulously frustrating day. One-shot


Not My Day

**Draco is experiencing an incredulously frustrating day. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his crew; for they belong to J.K Rowling. Happy Reading!**

Draco sighed as he lifted his briefcase and left his office briskly, trying his best not to give in and Floo home immediately for a brain-freezing shot of Firewhiskey. He had just finished his shift of working on potion accidents in the Magical Disasters Department For The Weak And Brainless. In reality, it happened to be one of the more 'difficult' jobs but nevertheless had the most stupid of cases.

Take the last case Draco had. A shivering Hufflepuff he had seen loping around the school in his Hogwarts days had been escorted into his lab, wet and snivelling most disgustingly. Zachary Myth or whatever his name was, was doused in a shiny grey liquid which suspiciously looked like a strong Cooling Potion.

Cooling Potions were commonly used for minor injuries and burns to relieve pain for short periods of time. They were to be dabbed and used in only small amounts on the skin. However, Merlin forbid, this smart ass believed that they could be used as coolants in hot summer days and thus decided to soak himself with it.

'_It__'__s f-fr-reezing,__' __Myth whimpered pathetically._

_Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. __'__Have you tried using a hot-air charm?__'_

_The Hufflepuff stared at him blankly and sneezed weakly._

_He huffed and waved his wand at him. __'__Aridus.__'_

_Myth__'__s robes instantly were fluffy and dry and his appearance no longer took that of a drowned dog. __'__Thanks, Malfoy.__'_

'_Myth,__' __Draco said, nodding curtly._

'_Smith,__' __he corrected._

'_Be off, Smith, unless you like my office so much you would dawdle here for such a long time? I__'__m sure you have much better things to do than stand like an absolute idiot in the middle of my lab.__' __Draco drawled, waving him away as if a pest._

_Smith blushed furiously and then proceeded to shuffle out in the most awkward way Draco had ever seen. He looked at his previously pristine carpet and scowled. The floor was tracked with sloppy footprints and whatever else was on the bottom of Smith__'__s shoes. Sniffing in distaste, he waved his wand at the floor with a quick __'__Scourgify__'__._

And a few similar painfully obvious mishaps before that, he was done for the day. Draco locked the door to his lab and descended down the stairs with his usual gracefully casual but confident strides. If only the whole trip down the stairs were so smooth. On the way down his third flight of stairs that led to the Atrium, he tripped over something and hopped down the remainder of the stairs in a disgraceful manner unfit for a Malfoy.

Damned thing.

Collecting himself together, he habitually straightened his tie and continued. But once again, while his mind was meandering elsewhere, he ran into someone and made them drop all their documents.

'Hey!' the woman screeched, 'Watch where you're going next time!'

'Sorry ma'am,' he replied, helping her pick up the scattered notes.

'Hmph.'

He recognised that snooty voice and took a good look at the owner. What was this?

Standing in front of him, in killer black heels and her usual flurry of unruly, maniacal hair, was his aunt Bella._ It really couldn__'__t be_, he thought nervously, backing a step away subconsciously. _Wasn__'__t she supposed to be rotting away in Azkaban?_

'Oh, it's you, dear Draco. Why are you looking at your Aunt Bella like that? Won't you say hello?' she crooned, face complete with that creepy smile that could make Snape scream and run away.

'H-hello Aunt Bella.' he croaked, unsure of his voice.

She nodded at him with another manic smile and click-clacked away.

No. He must be really sleep-deprived. He could not have just run into his Aunt Bella, who was holding official documents and running errands in the _Ministry. Yes, yes. It must be the lack of shut-eye_, he thought, absentmindedly heading towards a golden grille that had less people queuing.

The grille finally opened after who knows how long and Draco slipped in gratefully. And there stood just Potter, standing at the back but drawing the attention of the few that walked in anyways. _Disadvantage of being so famous, _Draco thought cynically. _I __mean, poor him. _he amended. He and Pott-well, Harry, were on some sort of mutual truce now. As long as both parties didn't go around snitching at the other, Wizarding War III was not about to break out.

'Malfoy,' Harry said, inclining his head slightly.

Draco returned the gesture and shifted his weight tiredly.

Ding. 'Level 2, Department of International Magical Cooperation,' a woman's voice announced.

Everyone except for Draco and Harry filed out and two suit clad men walked in.

'Good afternoon, Tom, Severus.'

Draco's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he heard the voice of 'Tom'.

'Indeed Harry. And how are you?' the man said, softly.

Tom Riddle. Aka Lord Voldemort. Was here in the lift. With him. And speaking cordially to Harry.

Wasn't he the crazy psychopath who insisted on killing Harry, not once, or twice, but at least six times?

Yes, yes, if Draco's memory did not fail him, yes he was.

'Draco, do shut your mouth. I do not need a clear image of the back of your throat.' Severus told him.

Draco snapped his mouth shut.

'So what are you doing here, Tom, Severus?' Harry asked.

Since when was Harry on good terms with his godfather? Last time he checked, they were at each other's necks. But nevertheless, Draco listened intently.

'We, are getting married.'

If Draco had been drinking something, he would not have hesitated to spit it out. Married?!

Draco chuckled nervously. 'To w-whom?'

'Tom, of course.'

'WHAT?!' he shouted.

'Do calm down, Draco. That look is hardly flattering on you.'

'Congratulations, Severus,' Harry said warmly, effectively cutting off Draco's impending rant.

'HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM?!' he cried.

'Surely you have some sense of self-restraint, being raised as a Pureblood and all that? Sadly, that seems not the case for you,' Harry replied calmly.

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself to be interrupted by Tom.

'My, Harry. Your retorts have become wittier. Severus has been rubbing off on you, has he?'

Ding. 'Level 3, Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

He scowled, watching yet another two walk in.

'Mr Tom Riddle,' both intoned roughly, bowing.

'Please, boys. Just call me Tom.'

Both remained bowed.

'Aren't you going to get up, Augustus, Roldophus?'

His mouth hung open once again.

Rookwood? Lestrange?

Weren't they supposed to be in Azkaban?

And more importantly, NOT friendly with Harry Potter.

The lift lurched and Draco clutched desperately to the rails as it plunged again and the light flickered. His face was pale with barely concealed fear when the movement stopped and reality sunk in.

He did the first thing that his muddled and shocked brain could process. He fainted.

Draco could feel an incessant and annoying poking in his side and muffled voices around him. He opened his eyes blearily and looked up into the amused face of Rodolphus Lestrange. All the last hour's memories flooded back to him.

He dropped his head back onto the floor with a loud Thud.

They were actually real.

Damn.

**Fin~! I feel so proud, finishing my third one-shot! Constructive criticism is appreciated. Please rate and review! Thanks!**

**~ Clarity Ann Dale**


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